


This Table Will Do

by ladydragon76



Series: Down a Notch... Or Eight [3]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Fanfiction, Genre: PWP, M/M, Rating: NC-17 - Freeform, character: megatron, character: optimus prime, series: down a notch, smut: sticky, verse: g1, warning: au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-24
Updated: 2011-05-24
Packaged: 2017-10-19 18:08:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/203779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladydragon76/pseuds/ladydragon76
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>Summary:</b> Luckily, it's a sturdy table.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Table Will Do

**Author's Note:**

> **‘Verse:** G1  
>  **Series:** Post Down A Notch… Or Eight  
>  **Rating:** NC-17  
>  **Pairing:** Optimus Prime/Megatron  
>  **Summary:** Fill from onetruesikorsky’s prompt here. Herein be Sticky Smutz! Ye be warned. No, there be no rhyme or reason for the pirate talk. Enjoy, me hardies! Yo ho!

They were still discovering each other’s kinks, and it was fun. Megatron had been utterly shocked to find out that not only did Optimus like it a bit rough sometimes, he also had this thing about risk. Not too much risk. But just enough.

Risk, like now, after the council meeting when everyone else had left, the door locked, but they were still in a public place. Their mechs knew where they were. Anyone could come along to try to find them.

Add to this the fact that Megatron had been entertaining himself the entire meeting by toying with Optimus’ seams below the table, and one had best be prepared. Megatron, of course, was.

The moment the door’s control panel light changed from green to red, Optimus was in his lap, face mask snapping back. Megatron met the fierce kiss with equal fervor, hands flying to Optimus’ hips to pull him in. Optimus couldn’t get closer though, not with the chair arms in the way, so Megatron stood, pushing him back.

“There something you want, Prime?” Megatron purred, hand dipping low, fingertips slipping through the lubricant that had seeped out through the fine seams of Optimus’ interface panel. Optimus shivered against him, and Megatron had to fight his own arousal when a soft, low moan escaped his partner.

“You know what I want. You’ve been teasing me for hours!” Prime’s hips bucked forward, his panel retracting. “You’re lucky I didn’t do something drastic about it.”

Megatron chuckled, pressing Optimus back. He pushed until Optimus’ aft met the council table and he tipped off balance. One leg kicked out, and the chair Megatron had vacated clanged loudly to the floor. Megatron smirked as Optimus flopped back, legs spreading wider.

“Drastic, hm? I shall have to try harder next time.” He traced the very rim of Optimus’ valve, his free hand planted on silver hips to hold Optimus down.

Optimus moaned, and shook his helm, hands fisted at his sides. Megatron was hardly any better off. His own vents were cycling loud, spark pounding in its casing, but the payoff of getting Optimus to the point of begging-

“Please!” Optimus gasped, hooking a leg behind Megatron’s aft in an attempt to pull him closer.

That one word had Megatron’s panel springing open, spike jutting out, slick and ready. He growled, hands gripping Optimus’ hips and pulling him right into the first deep thrust.

Optimus cried out, hands flying to grip Megatron’s wrists. “Yes! Yes, hard!”

Megatron shuddered, heat banding around his hips and rushing straight up into his spark. His hips jumped forward of their own volition, and Optimus gasped, squeezing his thighs tighter to Megatron’s waist, valve clenching down and _rippling_. “Slagging spawn of Unicron!” He was going to undo Megatron before he even got started.

“Please,” Optimus whispered.

Primus, he made a sight to behold laid out like this, optics dim and a deep cobalt blue, mouth parted, body writhing.

Megatron shut his optics for a moment, fighting for control, and finally deciding to just forget it. “Hard,” he growled.

Teeth clenched, he thrust hard as promised, hands gripping tight and pulling Optimus into each forward arch of his hips. Megatron growled again, feeling the wet slide of lubricant as it leaked down his thighs. Optimus’ cries grew louder, more desperate, and Megatron grinned a bit to think someone was sure to hear it.

He watched as Optimus thrashed on the table, then suddenly locked up, back arching. Megatron thrust even harder, almost violently, and Optimus snapped back into motion, valve drawing incredibly tight, a full body shiver shaking his frame as the most intoxicating moan rolled through the council room.

Megatron gasped, thrust deep and held there, letting Optimus’ overload milk his own. Tingling ecstasy washed through his systems, and he didn’t even begin to try to muffle his own roar of completion.

Megatron leaned forward, panting, listening to Optimus do the same, and rested his helm on his lover’s chest plates. Aftershocks made him twitch, which made Optimus whimper. He grinned, lifting his head to look Optimus in the optics. “What you were after?”

Optimus huffed a sated laugh, and flopped in a limp-limbed sprawl. “It’ll do.”

Megatron felt his optics go wide, then chuckled. “As I said. Next time I shall try harder.”

He grinned as Optimus purred.


End file.
